


There to Catch Him

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective and the Doctor [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Estim, Johnlock - Freeform, Kneeling, M/M, corner time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6101914">You Seem to Like It Well Enogh</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There to Catch Him

The car Mycroft had provided pulled up outside 221. John pulled his hand reluctantly from Sherlock's curls. “We're here, pet. Time to get up.”

The detective had spent the majority of the ride with his head happily resting in his Dom's lap and he was reluctant to move.

“Meh,” he moaned.

The doctor rocked him. “Come on, you've done nothing to be tired about today. You didn't even get up early this morning.”

John opened the car door and got out, sliding out from under his boy. “I'm going to count to three. If you haven't moved your lazy arse by the time I'm done, you can just spend some time in the corner.”

Sherlock just let his head flop onto the chair, his head bouncing before settling.

“One…”

The doctor folded his arms.

“Two…”

He sighed, contemplating just dragging him in by the curls.

“Thr...”

Sherlock sat up, his lower lip was stuck out. “I was comfy.”

“You can be comfy on your knees in the corner.”

“But you didn't say three!”

John gave him a look and pointed up towards the flat. “Corner, boy. Now.”

“But that won't be comfy.”

“Move your arse, right now!”

“Or what?” He folded his own arms, his pout still present.

John reached into the car and grabbed his curls, dragging him across the path and through the door already opened by Mrs. Hudson.

“Oh, hello, John dear.” She stood to the side to let them pass, far less surprised than either man expected her to be. “Oh, Sherlock. Can't you behave yourself?”

She held up one finger. “John, I have a nice cane to beat our lovely boy with. One moment.” Mrs. Hudson left, only to return at once with the promised item.

John decided not to ask, but he took it anyway. It seemed different to the one Mycroft had had Anthea delivery a few weeks ago, sturdier.

“Do you know what Mrs. H, after such a lovely weekend I was expecting him to be much better.”

Sherlock was still attempting to struggle despite his head being held at hip height.

“He's a puzzle, that one,” she said with her head tilted to look at Sherlock. “Just warn me if it's going to get very loud. I'll go visit Mr. Chatterjee in that case.”

John tapped the cane against the steps. “Sure thing Mrs. H. If I have to use this,” he hefted the cane again, “I'll warn you first. Ta.” John pulled Sherlock up the stairs.

He let him go at the door, hoping against the odds that he'd head straight to the corner.

“You're just being difficult for difficulties sake, aren't you?”

Sherlock refused to respond and he refused to move.

John sighed and grabbed him by the curls again, walking him to the corner. “Down, boy. I don't want to hear a sound, not one, for 30 minutes.”

“30-”

He clocked him on the back of his head. “Not one, I said!”

John rested his phone on the table, lining up the camera with the detective. He set it to record whilst he was in the kitchen, busy.

Sherlock glared at the corner. He had been perfectly content not 5 minutes ago and now he was bored. He hated the corner. He hated the stupid wallpaper that was torn in one spot. He hated being ignored most of all. Sherlock let his head fall forward against the corner with a thunk.

John continued in the kitchen, putting away the dishes Mrs. Hudson must have washed over the weekend and setting himself up with a nice cup of tea.

He'd heard the thunk of Sherlock's head hitting the wall, but he recognised what it was - a bid for John's attention. He refused to rise to the bait, so he picked up the book he had been reading before their pleasant holiday and started reading.

It had been about 10 minutes between putting him in the corner collapsing in his chair so he decided to plug some earphones in to his phone and watch Sherlock's performance for the time he had been out the room.

There Sherlock was on the screen. His fingers fidgeted at his neck and his legs shifted from time to time, but nothing drastic, until he dropped his head against the wall. At that point, Sherlock seemed to wait for something to happen. When it didn't, he turned away from the corner and glared at the kitchen. A few moments later, he had stood without a sound and took one step away from the corner, his mouth opening. He snapped it closed, seeming to think better of his actions, and knelt back in the corner.

John chose to go back to his reading for a moment and allowed himself to get to the end of the chapter.

“Boy, don't turn around just listen and answer my questions. Whilst I was getting myself a drink and tidying your mess from the latest experiment did you move?”

Sherlock thought fast. From where he was, knelt in the front corner by the door, there was no way John could have seen him, but perhaps the doctor had heard something. He decided on a partial truth. “Just my hands, sir, I couldn't keep them still. Oh, and my feet, but only the once.”

“Hmm,” John hummed not giving anything away.

Sherlock let out a quiet yet shaky breath, he'd actually gotten away with it.

“Well, since I've been back in here you've managed to not move at all… so how do you explain that?”

“You're soothing presence, sir.”

“Bollocks.”

Sherlock stiffened. “Sir? I don't understand.” He wanted to turn around so he could observe John and deduce what he was thinking, but he daren't.

“What's the rules while you're in the corner?”

“Keep my hands behind my head, sir.”

“And?”

“Not to talk unless I have permission, sir.”

“And?”

“Not to move, sir.”

“You didn't by chance get up whilst I was busy? Didn't fancy a walk around the flat?”

Sherlock winced – he’d been caught out. “Your mobile was recording the room. Obvious. I am an idiot.”

“Boy!” John barked. “Answer the question.”

The sub let out a sigh of resignation. “Yes, sir. I did stand, but only for a moment.”

“Do you need to repeat the rules again?”

He sighed, his head hitting the wall again, this time a lot gentler.

“No, sir. I'm sorry, sir, I-”

“Shut it!”

Sherlock was angrier with himself than John. They had had a tumultuous, but ultimately magnificent weekend and here he was already messing things up. It wasn't even as if he had meant to disobey, it had just happened. He hit his head against the wall, then did it again and again.

John watched him but didn't intervene until the fifth time. “You know what sulking gets you, Sherlock!” John yelled.

The detective stopped his assault on the wall and instead lowered his head.

Still, he hadn't been sulking - he didn't do that. Wisely, he kept his protests to himself. He just wished John would get on with the punishment so it would be over and done with. Molly had texted him and she had toes waiting for him at the morgue, but he was stuck here.

“You've got another 15 minutes.”

Sherlock sighed, his shoulders sagging.

John picked his book up again, flicking through it to find his book mark.

He only managed to read a few pages as his attention kept shifting to his kneeling sub. Finally, he put the book away and pulled out his phone. He stared at it for some time, debating. He could ask Molly to keep the promised toes from Sherlock for another day, but that seemed excessive. Still, his pet had to be punished. He typed out a text.

_Molly, S has been misbehaving. Do you have anything boring he can do to earn those toes? -JW_

He flicked his phone to silent so his boy wouldn't have any idea what he was doing.

He didn't have to wait long.

_What's he done now? And yes, there's something I need help with that will bore him completely, shall I drop it over? -M_

_Is a few hours ok for you? Cheers, Molly._

John stood and stretched, wincing as his shoulder gave a twinge. Walking to the corner, he grabbed Sherlock by the curls and pulled his head back so he could see his face. “My shoulder hurts and I don't feel like playing games, so you can stay there a while longer until my mood improves.”

“But-”

“Or you can come out of the corner and the anger and frustration I would usually avoid with you will occur.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered.

Sherlock tried to stay still, but it was no use. He had made it another 10 minutes and now all he wanted to do was crawl from the corner and put his head in John's lap. To his horror, he heard himself sniffle.

John didn't know which path to take with this new development. Sherlock occasionally cried, sometimes it was genuine and something had happened to upset him, other times he did it to get out of punishment or boring things. Seeing as nothing had happened in the last 20 minutes to make him cry, John was a sat on the fence.

“Boy, you have three sentences to use to explain why you're crying.”

The sub nodded as he tried to figure it out himself. “The last few days were good and then I messed it up. All I wanted was to be with you and rest my head in your lap and smell you and... and just feel you there with me. You deserve someone who's not so stupid!”

John sighed, fully believing that Sherlock was sincere for once. “Ok, pet. Come here.”

The sub turned and immediately crawled over, he knelt in front of John. Still, he didn't dare to look up.

The doctor reached out and drew Sherlock's head down to his lap. “Shh, shh, there. I believe you,” He petted his boy's curls for a while. “I can't have you disobey me, though. Tell you what. Molly is dropping off something tedious for you to do. You'll help her out and do it, politely and to the best of your abilities. If you do that, you can have the toes she promised you.”

Sherlock nodded, sniffled and said, “Yes, sir, but...” He bit his lip to silence himself.

“Yes, pet?”

“I'll still feel,” he made a face, “guilty. Later, will you use the cane so I won't feel that way anymore?”

John tipped his boy's face up. “No. That's completely out of proportion to the transgression. But,” he pressed a finger to Sherlock's lips, “I'll spank you if you like.”

“I-”

John interrupted him. “These last few days have been great, yes. And you have been good. Incredibly good, even. But I knew it wouldn't last. This weekend was all about showing your brother up which I believe you succeeded in. It's practically impossible for you to go more than a few days without some sort of disaster. The fact it is one so minor suggests we may have turned a corner in comparison to a few weeks ago.”

Sherlock let out a shuddering sigh, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around John's legs. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered, barely audible. “I love you.”

“I love you too, 'Lock.”

The detective cracked open one eye. “You called me 'Lock. Do I have to get up?”

John paused for a moment, thinking.

“Do you want to get up?”

“No, sir,” he said immediately, glad he was actually given a choice.

“Fine.” John pondered pulling out his cock for his boy to enjoy sucking, but thought better of it. He didn't want to traumatise Molly.

They sat there like that for quite some time before a knock came at the door downstairs. Greetings were exchanged and Molly started up the stairs.

“Up, pet, unless you want Molly to walk in with you like this.”

The detective groaned, “but, sir-”

John sighed. “Arguments lead to what Sherlock?”

“Corner time sir.”

“Well?”

“But you just said you don't want Molly seeing me on my knees.”

“Corner. I gave you the choice. It doesn't bother me how Molly sees you, it's you it's humiliating for.”

Sherlock began to crawl to the corner.

“And don't forget, boy, I know about your little humiliation kink.”

Settled in the corner, Sherlock licked his lips as he looked down the length of his own body to see the bulge of his erection in his trousers. John was right, of course he was. He was an excellent Dom and he was getting better at it by the day.

John couldn't help but grin at the back of his boy's head.

“Hands up, boy!” He ordered. The sub quickly obeyed, his hands nestling in his neck.

At the knock on the door, John stood and called, “come on in, Molly.”

Molly stepped inside the flat and froze at seeing Sherlock in the corner. She blushed to the roots of her hair. “Um, hi... John. Here's that work I promised you.” She glanced from the doctor to the detective, going even redder. Molly might not be the most observant person in the room, but with her job, she'd seen enough to make a few quick deductions. She dropped a stack of papers and a file on the coffee table. “I just need these properly labelled and sorted based on the materials in the file.” With one last glance in Sherlock's direction, she quickly fled the flat.

When the door downstairs had closed, Sherlock's shoulders started shaking and an uncontrollable giggle escaped him.

John covered his eyes with his hands and chuckled. “We really shouldn't laugh at poor Molly's expense.”

“You're not, sir. You're laughing at mine.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can I come out now?”

“No. 5 minutes. No moving.” John picked up the paperwork Molly had dropped and flicked through it.

It almost made him cringe, it was so dull. Sherlock would hate it. He tossed it back down, wishing time would move faster. His stomach was demanding that he eat, but he was loathe to leave Sherlock to renewed temptation and he daren't go back on his word.

“Are you hungry, boy?” John asked when the 5 minutes were up.

“No, sir.”

“If you say 'yes sir' and promise to eat a sandwich I'll let you out.”

Sherlock weighed his options, though his choice was clear. “Yes, sir, I promise to eat a sandwich.”

John rested his hands on his boy's shoulders and bent to place a kiss on the top of his head. “Up with you, then.”

“You can make a start on that, while I fix us something.”

Sherlock nodded almost eagerly but once he'd sat down and had a look at the task in front of him, he winced, Molly's job was incredibly tedious.

Sherlock felt like his brains were dripping out of his ears from the tedium of his task. He was so bored, he was almost glad of the sandwich John handed him. It was an excuse to stop.

“You are going to finish that, Sherlock.”

“Or what? I don't get the toes she promised me?”

“Yes, but that's not the reason you're going to.”

The detective frowned and looked up from the bite of his sandwich. “It's not?”

John raised an eyebrow.

“Sir?”

“Better and no. You're going to do it because Molly does an awful lot for you whenever you ask, or rather demand her attention.”

“But she likes helping me,” Sherlock protested.

John rolled his eyes. “I don't know why, what with the way you treat her. You really need to change that.”

“Pft.”

“No, I'm serious, boy.”

At the tone, the detective's head lowered submissively.

“When this full time thing started you wanted me to help you. And you gave me some certain things you wanted me to focus on. I believe being polite was one of those, was it not?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sherlock finished his sandwich, then managed another 10 minutes of the mind-numbing chore before he broke. “I can't do anymore of this! I can feel my brain rotting.” He tossed the papers, sending them flying in every direction and sprang to his feet.

John didn't react. He just sat back in his chair, now nursing a glass of coke. He didn't take his eyes off of the younger man waiting to see if he'd make this better or make it worse.

Sherlock rounded on his Dom. “Don't just sit there! Do something! Otherwise what's the point of you?!”

With a nod to himself, John set his glass down. Clearly his boy was begging to be put through his paces and he wanted it rough. The doctor didn't have to be at work until tomorrow, he could and would oblige.

Sherlock stared at him for one moment as John just sat there.

“Say please.”

His stare turned into a glare. “Make me.”

“I would change your mind if I was you, boy,” John's tone had gone from light and amused to angry in a split second.

“Please,” Sherlock whispered.

“What was that?”

“Please, sir,” he amended, his hands twisting in front of him nervously.

“Strip!” He barked, refusing to praise him for the manners.

Sherlock jolted, the tone surprising him, but obediently he began to lose all his clothes, laying them over the chair.

“Upstairs. Now!” Came the next shouted command. John didn't even care that he hadn't given Mrs. Hudson the intended warning.

“But what if-” he cut off at his Dom's actions. He should just keep his damn mouth shut!

John was reaching under his chair cushion and retrieving a leather leash. Sherlock clearly saw it, but just kept glaring at him. If the Dom had had any doubts as to his boy's intentions, they were gone now. He looped the leash around Sherlock's neck, grabbing the loose ends with one hand and used it to tug him out of the room and up the stairs. “You know, you could just ask for a bit of rough, not act out like a toddler to get yourself punished.”

“I'm not a toddler!” Sherlock yelled, grabbing the banister to stop John from being able to pull me any further up.

The doctor turned to look at him, taking in his angry demeanour.

“Maybe you're right.” John slid the leash from around Sherlock's neck. “You're not even acting that old, more like a squalling baby.” He folded the leash very deliberately. “I tell you what, you're on your own,” he bluffed. “Maybe I'll just go meet Greg for chat, faff about for a bit.” John started to step around his boy.

Sherlock snaked out a hand to stop him, grabbing him by the arm. “No! Please.”

John looked down at Sherlock's fingers that were holding him tight, then back up into stormy grey eyes. “If you want me to stay, you know what to do.”

Sherlock licked his lips and then released his hold on the doctor. “You wouldn't really leave. Not after the way I've spoken to you.”

“Wouldn't I?” He asked, moving down the stairs, his back to the sub.

“No, wait!” Sherlock tried again.

John paused, not looking back.

“I'll go to the room, sir. Just don't leave.” Sherlock watched John nod, then the sub started up the stairs. When he reached John's old room, he pushed the door open and froze.

“What is it, boy?” the Dom asked as he came up the stairs behind him. “You really don't want to- bloody hell!”

“Mycroft's work. He must have had this done while we were at the manor.” Sherlock stepped into the room and looked around. It had obviously been soundproofed and the sheer number of new toys was overwhelming. There were also a couple of new pieces of furniture in the room: a Saint Andrew's Cross, a fucking machine and a breeding stand. Luckily the room was large enough to hold them all.

“I um…” Sherlock swallowed hard.

“I like your brother even more now.”

“Sir?” He asked tentatively.

“What is it like?”

“Can we try CBT?”

“You mean like what your brother went through over the weekend?”

“Maybe.”

John arched an eyebrow. “So yes, but no then. Why don't you let me decide?” He took Sherlock by the arm and stood him in front of an assortment of cuffs and collars. “Pick out the ones you want to wear and put them on while I look over our new toys.”

John left him to it, then went to look at some wicked looking implements. It didn't take him long to find something that appealed, it was an estim ball press.

Sherlock had picked purple cuffs and a matching collar. A colour that he knew made John hard on the spot just from his purple shirt. He'd done as he was told and had buckled them up.

John stepped to his side and stuck a finger through the d-ring on Sherlock's collar. He pulled him down to eye level. “You're sure about this, pet?”

The sub swallowed hard, realising that this was what he had been needing, not soft, soothing touches, but the promise of having his body and mind pushed to their limits and a bit beyond. “Yes, sir. Please.”

John cupped his cheek briefly and then looked around at the varied devices he could tie his boy to. “You liked the cross the other day, so go and stand by it.”

Doing as instructed, Sherlock stood there. He felt as if every molecule in his body was vibrating with anticipation. When John grasped his right wrist, everything took on a sense of the surreal.

The Dom paused, just holding Sherlock's wrist up against the cross. It was breath taking how his boy was already slipping into sub space from anticipation alone. “I've become your addiction, haven't I?” he mused aloud.

Sherlock only blinked at him.

“I don't mind, pet. I'll always give you what you need and I'll always take care of you.” John kissed him, long and slow, only pulling away at Sherlock's broken moan. “I just wish you wouldn't antagonise me to get this.”

Sherlock didn't comment, his head fell back and hit the wooden cross with a thud.

John quickly restrained his boy, arms and legs spread and fastened to the four points of the cross. He walked over and grabbed the special lube that would ensure the plates would provide a steady jolt of electro stimulation to Sherlock's bits. He poured some into his palm and smoothed it over his boy's bollocks before it could properly warm. Sherlock hissed at the coldness of it and was contemplating whether or not he would regret this.

“I wonder whether to gag you or not… or maybe a blindfold,” the doctor pondered. He grabbed Sherlock's chin and pulled his head down so he could look into his pet's eyes.

Sherlock's pupils were blown wide, their silver-grey thinned to a mere line around dark black. “Yes, a blindfold. You won't be able to tell if I'm paying attention to your suffering or not.” He let him go. “But no gag. It would be a shame to waste this lovely soundproofing.”

Sherlock grinned, watching his Dom go and grab the blindfold. He returned and tugged it down over big floppy curls.

John indulged himself for a bit, just running his hands over the firm muscle and smooth skin of his pet's chest. Every now and again, he would tweak a pink nipple between his forefinger and thumb, giving it a little twist. He worked his way lower and gave Sherlock's jutting cock a firm stroke before finally picking the estim plates and clamping them in place.

John stepped back and looked at the plates that held Sherlock's balls tightly between them. “Is that tight enough, boy?”

A broken whimper was the response.

“No, boy, speak.”

“Yes sir, definitely tight enough,” he puffed.

“Good.” John picked up the battery box and its trailing wires, then turned back to his boy. He leant forward and kissed along Sherlock's collarbone, then bent and attached the wires to the two plates. He could have warned his pet, but that seemed rather against the point of the blindfold. He slowly turned the dial up to 1, watching his sub's face closely. He went back to fiddling with his nipples as he watched, flicking them occasionally. He moved away from his boy to find a nice set of clamps. That would definitely catch the younger man off guard.

Sherlock could feel his cock starting to stir once again despite the pressure on his bollocks or maybe even because of it. The tingling sensation was low and came in a steady rhythm, it was almost teasing and nothing approaching the level of stimulation he needed.

Abruptly, Sherlock felt a familiar pinch at his nipples and he let out a gasp. He could tell from the firm pressure that John had used the clover clamps on him. If only... The pressure increased dramatically as something heavy came to rest low on his chest. It was a weight that had been attached to the chain that dangled between the clamps. Oh, he wanted more of that, too. John pulled the weight back and let it go so it smacked him in the stomach.

“Do you like that, boy? A bit of heavy?”

“Mmm.”

“Perhaps that's how we'll start our days from now on. I'll clamp those little nubs and make you do push up with dangling weights attached.” John grinned as his boy's cock gave a twitch. “After that, I'll give you a good flogging until you can't even consider sitting without thinking of me. That's what you need, isn't it, Boy? A constant reminder that you're owned.”

“Yes, s... Ungh.” Sherlock dropped his head back to thud against the cross as the tingling pulses in his cock increased in intensity. It felt closer to pain, but was still frustratingly short of the mark.

John grinned and sat the control box down. Maybe that really was the solution to his boy's problem - pre-emptive punishment.

John found a section, inside a wardrobe full of things he could hit Sherlock with, Mrs. Hudson's cane was highly irrelevant now. He selected a flogger, but not a particularly harsh one and tiptoed back to his boy. He had his head on one side, clearly trying to predict where the Dom was and what he was doing.

John barely let himself breathe as he stood there, silently watching. When his boy tilted his head to the other side, the Dom lashed out, hitting the clamp that dangled from Sherlock's right nipple. His boy let out a gasp of surprise and jolted, causing the weight to jerk on its chain and pull the clamps briefly tighter.

His nipples were peaked beautifully and they had turned blood red with their abuse.

John struck out again on the same side fiddling with the dial for Sherlock's balls with his bare foot.

This time, when the increased sensation hit the sub's balls it had definitely tipped over into pain. Sherlock felt the sharp sting of electricity pulsing in his cock. The added pain at his nipples almost brought him to where he needed to be. “Please, Sir,” he panted as his body went rigid.

“Please, what?”

“Please, more, sir. It's almost...”

John twisted the dial up one more notch with his toes, causing his boy to start breathing hard and fast. He reached out and removed one of the clamps, causing Sherlock to cry out, then he reattached it at a 90° twist.

Sherlock's bottom lip was sucked in between his teeth and he gnawed on it like a carrot stick.

John swung the flogger again aiming at the weight. “Let go of that lip, boy, if I want it to hurt, I'll hurt it myself.”

“Sorry, sir.” Sherlock yowled at the next strike, his nipples were on fire as were his bollocks. He wanted to look down at himself, but couldn't. He was sure his cock had gotten so hard it was turning purple.

“All pretty for me, strung up like a turkey. What if I was to just leave you here? Like this. Would you like that, boy? All alone? No attention from me, that's what you really want isn't it?”

“No!” Sherlock shook his head. “Please, sir. No.” He needed to know John was there, watching him struggle. It would be meaningless without him there. It would... Sherlock let out a low whine as the jolts to his cock increased. He lost all sense of time as he trembled under the onslaught. Try as he might he couldn't hear John. He couldn't smell him for the scent of his own sweat. “Sir? Please, are you there?”

John didn't answer, if his boy thought this through he would know that the doctor wouldn't leave him. He wasn't that irresponsible. Leaving Sherlock in this state would be ridiculous, what if he wanted to safe word?

Sherlock's body gave a jerk and he dropped his head back to the cross again. Of course John was there, that's why he trusted him. He concentrated on breathing steadily.

After 90 seconds of watching his boy breathe, John reached out and wrapped his fingers around his pet's cock.

The response this time was amazing, Sherlock's whole body seemed to float in the air, despite being tied down.

The Dom ran his hand up and down his shaft once, twice, three times, Sherlock trying to meet him with his thrusting. John released him then and moved back to the restraints, he'd seen some little eyelets in the centre of the cross and now knew why they were there. He picked up a long padded strap, and moved to wrap it around his pet's waist, attaching it with hooks to the cross, now when he tortured his boy a bit more he couldn't move

Sherlock tried to buck at the next touch of calloused fingers to his cock, but his hips were held in place. John's touch shifted from firm to ghosting and then disappeared completely.

Sherlock actually growled low in his throat, the response of his Dom was a deep-bellied chuckle.

“This isn't funny!” He puffed.

“No, it's fucking hot.” John palmed himself through his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to bend Sherlock over and fuck him mercilessly, but that could wait. Instead, he knelt in front of Sherlock and wrapped his lips around his boy's cock, careful to avoid the ball press which was still running almost at a painful level.

“Sir, sir, please!”

John attempted to say 'please what?' But it came out as a handful of hums around his boy's cock. That proved to be too much. Sherlock felt his body convulse as he came unexpectedly in his Dom's mouth.

John grunted in surprise and swallowed the small load of semen, decreased as it was by the constriction of Sherlock's balls. He pulled off his boy's cock and stood. “Did I say you could come, boy?”

“N... no, sir.” It was becoming a struggle to talk as the sensations that were titillating before became more and more overwhelming.

“Hmm.” John started stroking Sherlock's over-sensitive cock. “Well, then. You'll simply have to do it again.”

“S-sir, sir, p-please…”

“You know the rules, you little brat.”

“I… I know, but please…”

“I don't hear your safe word,” John said as he continued to coax Sherlock's cock back to hardness. He looked at his boy's bemused face. “See? You can do this. Mycroft did,” John added. “15 minutes he had his little friends trapped in the tightest possible way. You wouldn't want to be anything but your best for me would you boy?”

“But, sir,” Sherlock tried vainly to shift away from his touch, “He didn't have to come like that and not twice.”

“If I remember correctly he didn't come at all. Think yourself lucky boy!”

Sherlock sighed, his eyes watering beneath the blindfold at the persistent touch.

John found himself slight entranced as he watched his boy. Sherlock's cock was fully hard again if not quite so dark and flushed. Also, the muscles in his pet's abdomen and thighs worked continuously, flexing and relaxing in turn. “I wish I had thought to video this.”

Sherlock just grunted, the ache in his balls far worse than he could ever have imagined.

“In the future, sir, when I ask for something you know will be painful. Say no.”

John chuckled. “Not a chance in hell, pet. And listen to you, still able to talk.” He reached for the box, watching Sherlock closely.

The detective closed his eyes behind the blindfold. He knew he could take it, so he didn't safe word. Still the immediate escalation in pain ripped a long string of expletives from his lips. His words trailed off into a continuous keen as his erection flagged.

At his boy's reaction, both vocal and physical, John dialled the intensity back down a bit until Sherlock quieted. “Safe word if you need to.”

“It was c... close, Ssssir.” Sherlock rocked his head from side to side. “Feels b-better now, al-almost good.” The pain was more powerful than before John had dialled up the intensity, but not as bad as it had been at its worst. Those brief moments of blinding hot pain he had felt before had transformed it, somehow, into something transcendent.

“Alright, pet, alright.” John let Sherlock's cock rest for a moment before he attacked it again. “You get a choice. I'll leave that on just as strong for 15 minutes and go and sit down for a bit. Or I can bring you off now and then I'll let you down.”

Sherlock didn't hesitate, “Please, m... make me come, sir.” If he could, he wasn't entirely sure it was possible.

John went down on him for the second time that day.

“Jesus fucking... damn!” Sherlock's head slammed back into the cross again, this time with enough force to make him aware of it. He was so overwhelmed by the waves of sensation that were washing over him that he didn't notice his Dom reach up with one hand and grab the weight that rested against his chest.

John waited for the moment when his boy spilled into his mouth, then yanked hard on the weight that he held, causing the nipple clamps to bite even harder into already aching flesh.

Sherlock let loose a wail as he came, shuddering, then went completely limp in his bonds.

John quickly removed the clamps, knowing they would most probably be the worst aspect, the longer they left them the more Sherlock would dread their removal. John licked each nipple gently. Sherlock hissed in response, thankful for his Dom's tongue soothing each nub.

After a few moments, John pulled back and turned the dial to off. “Just hang on a moment more,” he said as he started undoing the clamps that held the cock press in place. When his boy's balls were free, John massaged them gently. “You ready for me to take you down.”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, sir. Couldn't walk.”

“That's fine,” he whispered with a kiss. “Close your eyes,” he pulled the blindfold free throwing it over a nearby bench.

When he'd completely untied him Sherlock fell forward much like his brother had a few days previous and of course the doctor was there to catch him. Sherlock knew he would always be there to catch him and that meant everything.


End file.
